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LETTERS FROM A FATHER 
TO HIS DAUGHTER 
ENTERING COLLEGE 



BY 
CHARLES FRANKLIN THWING, 

D.D., LLD. 

President of the College for Women, 
of Western Reserve University, 



THE PLATT & PECK CO. 






v-<^V^ 



Copyright, 1913, by 
THE PLATT & PECK CO. 



©CI. A3 47 70 5 



PREFATORY NOTE. 

Parts of these letters, like parts of the 
corresponding ''Letters to a Son," were read 
to my own college girls at the beginning of a 
college year. In them I have tried to write 
both as a parent and as a president. For 
each relation is full of infinite meanings, and 
each relation easily flows into the other. I 
am glad, at the wish of the publisher, to give 
these letters, paternal and academic, a wider 
hearing than either the individual home or 
college chapel can offer. 

C. F. T. 
College for Women, 
Western Reserve University, 
Cleveland, September, 1913. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I Choosing a . College 9 

II College Life :— 14 

What it is ncrt; 
What it is. 

III The College and the Home 24 

IV The Value of Health 31 

V Democracy and Cultivation 37 

VI The Best for Yourself 48 

VII Teachers 51 

VIII Books 54 

IX Living your Life 57 

X Friendships 60 

XI Three Special Things : — 68 

Voice 

Handwriting 

Dress 

XII The Elements of Religion 73 



LETTERS FROM A FATHER 
TO HIS DAUGHTER EN- 
TERING COLLEGE 



My dear Daughter: 

^ I ^HERE has never been any 
A question about your going to 
college. Your mother's life at Vas- 
sar had given her a special eagerness 
to send her daughter to that or some 
other good college. But now, that 
the college is decided upon, I can 
easily see that there were three, 
among other reasons, which have 
led us to make our choice. 

One reason is that the college is 
not too big. A very big college for 
boys is bad, but a very big college 
9 



Letters from a Father to 

for girls is worse. For do not girls 
have peculiar need of individual 
care? There should be, I believe^ 
specially careful oversight of each 
and every one. When I think, too, 
of how large a part of your life 
and work will be individual, I am 
the more eager that you in your edu- 
cation should not be one of a mass. 
A big college, of course, you may 
say, should give as careful care to 
the individual as the small. It 
should: but it does not, and, cer- 
tainly, it is more difficult, and these 
difficulties the colleges do not seem 
to have the machinery for overcom- 
ing. So I am glad you are going to 
a college big enough for you to find 
10 



His Daughter Entering College 



a field of companionship, a variety 
and richness of studies, and not so 
big that you will be regarded by the 
president as one among a thousand. 
I am also glad we have decided to 
send you to a college near a big city, 
but not in it. A college for girls in 
a big city does not give room for 
play, in both the metaphorical and 
literal sense, and girls must have a 
chance to play, to be their free 
selves ; but a college far away from 
a big city always seems to me 
to make the temptation pretty 
strong to fall into habits of dress 
and manner which the world does 
not value highly. I want you to be 
urbane, and urbane is only urban 
11 



Letters from a Father to 

with the last vowel added. But I 
also want you still to have room and 
space and time for play. 

But, there is a third reason, too, 
for our choice. I have not wanted 
to send you to a college where there 
are boys. I wonder if I can tell you 
just why. I think the reason is 
something of this sort: — College 
life has many problems, and some 
hard ones, for the girl. They are, 
for some girls, so many and so 
hard, that they are not able to see 
through them or to think through 
them, or even to feel their way 
into or through them. I do not 
want to add to your problems un- 
necessarily. The presence of boys 

12 



His Daughter Entering College 



is liable to make for some girls a 
problem or a series of problems. 
The problem which the boy repre- 
sents should be deferred for most 
girls till graduation, and it is also a 
problem which the parent rather see 
solved under his own eyes. While 
I believe we ought to have co-edu- 
cational colleges, and also, while I 
believe that certain girls will find it 
well to go to them, I am glad you are 
going to a college where the boy- 
problem, or the man-problem, will 
not be presented every hour of ev- 
ery day, and day by day of each of 
your one hundred and forty-four 
weeks. 



13 



Letters from a Father to 

II 

But, now, having told you, as I 
have not before, of some of the rea- 
sons leading to our choice, what 
shall I tell you of your college life? 
Perhaps I should begin with saying 
what it is not, or what it should 
not be. Misinterpretations are too 
common. One of these misinter- 
pretations refers to the value of a 
college education. 

Some girls regard a college edu- 
cation as of very great significance. 
It is the all, the be-all, and the end- 
all of life. To the college they 
have looked forward with longing 
and contentment. They have nei- 

14 



His Daughter Entering College 



ther dared nor cared to look beyond 
college years or college walls. 
This condition was more com- 
mon formerly than now. The di- 
vision between the academic world 
and the non-academic world was 
more marked. To-day, the college 
woman finds her way into every call- 
ing where brain and character have 
an opportunity, — and what calling 
is there where brain and character 
lack an opportunity? — and the col- 
lege student sees her sister alumnse 
doing all the things that every one 
does, and she therefore is not in- 
clined to look upon the college ex- 
perience as unique. 
Some girls regard a college course 

15 



Letters from a Father to 

as a matter of but slight conse- 
quence. It is a mere incident or ac- 
cident. Its four years are only five 
per cent of one's four score years of 
life. Its successes bear no relation 
to life's success, or its failures to 
life's failure. The student delights 
to point out the women who have 
not gone to college. Where and 
how was ''George Eliot" educated? 
Wherein lies the truth? It is 
safe to say that college is not the be- 
all or the end-all. It is also safe to 
say that college is not a mere in- 
cident. The college is neither a 
purpose, a final cause, nor a result; 
the college is always a means, a 
method, a force. Its power over 
16 



His Daughter Entering College 



some women, be it confessed, is 
slight. Some women leave the col- 
lege the same women they came, 
with slight exceptions. The power 
over others, be it said, is hardly less 
than tremendous. It has turned 
the stream of their life's thought. 
It has given them a vision of possi- 
bility. It has inspired desires for 
making real the content of this vi- 
sion. It has opened the windows of 
their souls and the air of human life 
has swept in to make a sturdy and 
fine character. It has brought them 
to the world of good books and the 
preciousness of good souls. It has 
given them a sense of proportion 
and an appreciation of values, a re- 
17 



Letters from a Father to 

spect for the law that underlies all 
laws. It has strengthened individu- 
ality, it has lessened eccentricities. 
It has deepened the sense of individ- 
uality and it has also deepened the 
sense of humanity. It has taken 
away caddishness and callowness, 
and made one a genuine good fel- 
low. It has trained one to win tri- 
umphs with humility and to bear 
defeats with calmness. It has in- 
creased respect for the decencies and 
the sanctities of life. It has en- 
larged the sense of humanity and 
developed the sense of friendship. 
It has, with all intellectual enrich- 
ment, tried to add strength to the 
strength of the will, and sensitive- 
l8 



His Daughter Entering College 



ness to the mainspring of con- 
science. It has taken the daughter 
from the family for a time, but it 
has given an added respect for the 
preciousness of the hearth-stone. 
Without infringing upon the per- 
sonal relations which one bears to 
one's God, it has sought to make 
that relation more vital, more rea- 
sonable, more natural and more 
commanding. 

A further misinterpretation, or 
over-valuation, relates to moral and 
intellectual values. College wom- 
en are inclined to have an undue 
appreciation of intellectual values 
and an undue depreciation of eth- 
ical values. Most come to college 

19 



Letters from a Father to 

with the idea that the college is the 
creator of intellectual power only. 
I heard a most impressive speech 
made at the last commencement in 
favor of the proposition. The col- 
lege is indeed to create intellect. 
The text-book is the Genesis of our 
intellectual Bible. The class-room 
is the bare waste over which the in- 
tellectual spirit is to brood and to 
bring forth life. The teacher is, to 
use the Socratic figure, to minister 
to the intellectual new birth. If it 
is not true, the college ought to burn 
the library, blow up the laboratory, 
and send the students home. But 
we have learned that man is not in- 
tellect only, and we have learned 

20 



His Daughter Entering College 



that intellect does not work alone. 
Man is a unit. One can not attain 
intellectual results unless the feel- 
ings are in a proper state and the 
will fittingly directed. If the feel- 
ings are riotous, the powers of reflec- 
tion are disturbed. If the appetites 
are not properly guarded, the power 
of perception is lessened. Man is 
one. His powers are to be kept 
in equilibrium. Keep, create, in- 
crease, all the intellectual powers. 
But you should know that the eth- 
ical forces are of great value. Of 
course it is more important to be 
strong than to be able to decline vir- 
tus, to stand four-square to all the 
heavens than to be able to prove 

21 



Letters from a Father to 

the propositions about the parallel- 
ogram, to have a pure heart than to 
speak pure English. Of course it 
is, and the most materialistic of all 
college officers would say that it is, 
true. This truth receives illustra- 
tion in the fact that the intellectual 
forces have had much less to do with 
the progress of the world and of 
mankind than is commonly be- 
lieved. 

Another lack of proper estimation 
is seen in the over-valuation of 
knowledge and the under-valuation 
of power. It is natural for a col- 
lege woman to over-estimate the 
value of knowledge. Has she not 
been learning all these eight or 

22 



His Daughter Entering College 



twelve years? Has she not passed 
examinations according as she knew, 
and failed according as she did not 
know? If she knew, she has been 
called bright, clever, brilliant, a 
genius in the bud; if she did not 
know, she has been called stupid, 
and foolish. If she knew, her path- 
way has been an easy and happy 
one; if she did not know, her path- 
way has been a hard and miserable 
one. This will continue after col- 
lege also. You will still find it con- 
venient to know. But I would 
have you believe that all knowl- 
edge is of small worth for its own 
sake. Knowledge is of chief worth 
because it gives you material for 

23 



Letters from a Father to 

thought, and the process of acquir- 
ing knowledge is of chief value be- 
cause it trains you in the methods of 
thinking. Thought is of worth be- 
cause it is the chief power among 
men. The college, and the world, 
can not have too many scholars. 
There will be few, and only a few, 
at the best. But the world needs 
women who can think, and think 
largely, broadly, justly, accurately 
and comprehensively. 

Ill 

I perhaps ought to begin this 
letter by saying that, while you are 
in college, you must not forget your 
home. 

24 



His Daughter Entering College 



The purpose of the home is the 
purpose of the college. The parent 
desires his daughter to become wise 
and large-minded, great in heart, 
strong in will, and appreciative of 
all that is good and beautiful. The 
teacher also seeks to secure wisdom 
through learning and to cause wis- 
dom to become a guide of the will 
in its choices of right and of duty. 
The son of Josiah Quincy, one of 
the most useful presidents of Har- 
vard College, says of his father: 
''His heart's desire was to make 
the College a nursery of high- 
minded, high-principled, well- 
taught, well-conducted, well-bred 
gentlemen, fit to take their share, 

25 



Letters from a Father to 

gracefully and honorably, in public 
and private life." I am sure that 
the desire of President Quincy for 
his students was the same desire 
which he as a parent had for his chil- 
dren. 

The identity of the aim of the 
home and of the college is indeed 
significant. For the idea is alto- 
gether too strong and too commonly 
held that the college is either remote 
from or even antagonistic to the 
home, that its ideals are not the 
ideals of the home, nor its way of 
securing these ideals the methods 
which the home adopts. To be sure, 
a superficial interpretation gives 
ground for the judgment of such 
26 



His Daughter Entering College 



alienation. For the sons and 
daughters are away from home. 
College life is at once monastic and 
communal. Domestic life is not 
monastic and in many respects 
is not communal. College people 
live in an atmosphere of freedom. 
The domestic atmosphere is one of 
dependence and supervision. But 
after all the superficial and tempo- 
rary differences, at bottom the col- 
lege wants what the home wants; 
the home wants what the college 
wants, — the finest type of the lady 
and of the gentleman. 

I also wish to say that the college 
should have the attitude and mood 
of the home in trusting the girl. 
27 



Letters from a Father to 

The girl who comes to college mis- 
trusted by her home, under the fear 
that she will not prove worthy 
either in intellect or character is 
very prone to prove that she was 
worthy of this lack of trust. The 
girl who comes to college trusted is 
inspired to prove herself worthy 
of the trust. Nothing makes the 
young or the old child so worthy of 
being trusted as being trusted. 
This was the method of Arnold of 
Rugby. It was also the method of 
President Quincy, from whom I 
have already quoted. His son says 
of him that in his intercourse with 
the students ''He always took it for 
granted that they were gentlemen 
28 



His Daughter Entering College 



and men of honor. He never 
questioned the truth of any story 
any of them told him, when in aca- 
demic difficulties, however improb- 
able it might be. That statement 
was accepted as truth until it was 
overthrown by implacable facts and 
inexorable evidence. Then, be- 
yond doubt, the unhappy youth was 
made to know the value of a good 
character by the inconvenience at- 
tending the loss of it." One of the 
most significant remarks ever made 
about Arnold was that made by the 
boys at PiUgby, — ''We wouldn't lie 
to Arnold; he'd believe us." 

But the college has relations to 
the home, as well as the home to the 
29 



Letters from a Father to 

college. After three or four years 
of sojourn the college turns the girl 
back to the home. It may be at 
once said that it is a little diflBcult 
for her to resume these domestic re- 
lations. If she has not lost touch 
with the personalities of the home, 
she has lost touch with its forms 
and methods, standards and at- 
mospheres. Herein lies an argu- 
ment for the girl and the boy, too, 
going to a college so near home that 
these relations are not wholly or 
largely severed. But she is to put 
herself back into these relations. 
She is to be an obedient daughter, a 
helpful sister and a happiness-bear- 
ing associate. She is to be remote 

30 



His Daughter Entering College 



from all sophomoric remoteness and 
from senior loftiness. She is to be- 
come interested in all the interests 
of the home. She is to bear into its 
well-being a gentleness which is 
sympathetic, a strength and an ap- 
preciation which is loyal and rich 
and fine. She is to assume respon- 
sibilities. She is to be efficient 
without officiousness. 

IV 

And now, I want to tell some most 
obvious truths, and to tell them, too, 
in such a way, if possible, that they 
may help you in college life, every 
day. 

The college girl will find it diffi- 

31 



Letters from a Father to 

cult to emphasize too strongly the 
value of health. Whatever may be 
the worth of general physical sound- 
ness yet this soundness has at least 
three special values. 

First, it gives aid in holding and 
getting sound views of life. Life 
is a mirror. One smiles into it and 
it smiles back. One scowls and it 
scowls. If one is sick, all of life is 
in peril of becoming sickly. Peo- 
ple who have broken hips always 
find that the chief injuries that men 
suffer are broken hips. If one is 
well, vigorous, sound, all life seems 
well, vigorous, sound. Now, all 
life is not well, vigorous and sound, 
but if one is well, vigorous and 
32 



His Daughter Entering College 



sound, one's own vigor helps to 
transmute all life into vigor. It is 
also advantageous to interpret life 
in terms of its highest helpful- 
ness. Its verb is to be conjugated 
in the perfect, or pluperfect, tense 
of action, of noblest attainment and 
of highest condition. 

Second, health has a value to oth- 
ers quite as great as to oneself. It 
is good to be able to give an impres- 
sion of vigor. I know Carlyle says 
of himself as a student at Edin- 
burgh that these were the three most 
miserable years of his life — "a prey 
to nameless struggles and miseries, 
which have yet a kind of horror in 
them to my thoughts, three weeks 

33 



Letters from a Father to 

without any kind of sleep, from im- 
possibility to be free from noise." 
One also recalls the struggle with 
ill health which the great Darwin 
made. Frequently, again and again, 
he writes in this mood : '1 am quite 
knocked up, and am going next 
Monday to revive under water- 
cure." "Before starting here (hy- 
dropathic establishment) I was in 
an awful state of stomach, strength, 
temper and spirits." "I have not 
had one whole day, or rather night, 
without my stomach having been 
greatly disordered during the last 
three years, and most days great 
prostration of strength." 

Thomas Huxley also writes com- 
34 



His Daughter Entering College 



plaining "of weariness and dead- 
ness hanging over him, accompanied 
by a curious nervous irritability." 
At the age of thirty-two, Robert 
Browning fell in love with Eliza- 
beth Barrett. At the same period 
his headaches began! Up to that 
time he had been free from such 
symptoms. The relation between 
the heart and the head may be close ! 
For many years he writes of these 
headaches. In 1846 he says: "I 
am rather hazy in the head." He 
also says : "For all the walking my 
headaches." He adds too: "With 
the deep joy in my heart below, 
what does my head mean by its 
perversity?" 

35 



Letters from a Father to 

But the college girl should free 
herself from such sufferings and in- 
capacities. She is not to allow her- 
self to be plagued by headaches or 
heartaches, or indigestion or nerv- 
ousness. She is to keep herself 
well, both for the sake of good 
health and for the sake also of giv- 
ing the impression of being able to 
do good work. 

Third, health not only gives the 
impression of being able to do 
things, but health also gives the 
power of doing things. Health b 
good blood; good blood aids in vig- 
orous thinking. Health is sound 
muscle; sound muscle is executive 
action. Health is calm nerves; 

36 



His Daughter Entering College 

calm nerves promote sound judg- 
ment. Woman's life is a round of 
duties punctuated by crises. The 
crises may be glorious or inglorious. 
The way one follows this round 
without permanent weariness, the 
way one meets these crises, de- 
pends largely upon physical sound- 
ness. 



In college, furthermore, you are 
not to forget the large human rela- 
tions. One is not to be "cribbed, 
cabined or confined." One is to be 
a unit. One is to place about one- 
self other units. One may form 
small unities, but one is not to keep 

37 



Letters from a Father to 

oneself to small unities. The stu- 
dent is to belong to her class; that 
is good. She is to belong to her col- 
lege; that is better. She is to be- 
long — and it is a far cry — she is to 
belong to humanity. 

I sometimes think I could go into 
a group of college girls and pick 
out those who come from Vassar, 
or from Smith, or from Wellesley. 
Mannerisms in speech or dress or 
certain interpretations of life would 
reveal academic origins. I should 
like for all college graduates to be 
distinguished by the mere absence 
of mannerisms, of characteristics — 
to have one manner, one character — 
the largest understanding, the deep- 

38 



His Daughter Entering College 



est love for, the highest loyalty to, 
all human interests. 

Women are usually more seclu- 
sive and exclusive than men. They 
shut others out and themselves in 
more. Commerce, industry, compel 
men to be democrats. Trade has no 
aristocracy. Because the college girl 
lacks this aid, she should be the more 
eager to make use of every oppor- 
tunity to become one with all. One 
is to be democratic. One is to make 
use of every opportunity of democ- 
racy. Snobbishness is bad in a man, 
worse in a woman. One's relation 
to all people is to be fundamental 
and essential. 

Another suggestion emerges. It 

39 



Letters from a Father to 

relates to the education for power 
and the education for cultivation. 
There are books which may be called 
books of power, and also there are 
books, which may be called books of 
cultivation. Mill's "Logic," Adam 
Smith's "Wealth of Nations," be- 
long to the first class. They are the 
result of great intellectual force, 
and they are creators also of intel- 
lectual force. On the other hand, 
poems are peculiarly books of culti- 
vation. The same difference exists 
in education. There is the educa- 
tion which creates great thinking. 
No one can read Mill's "Logic," 
without becoming stronger. But 
there is an education of another sort 
40 



His Daughter Entering College 



quite as important. It is the edu- 
cation which cultivates. 

Who is the cultivated person? 
Some would say that the cultivated 
person is the person of beautiful 
manners, of acquaintance with the 
noblest social customs, who is at 
home in any society or association. 
Such a definition is not to be 
spurned. For is it not said, "Man- 
ners make the man?" Manners 
make the man! Do manners then 
create the man? Do manners give 
reputation to the man? Do man- 
ners express the character of the 
man? Which of the three interpre- 
tations is sound? Or does each in- 
terpretation intimate a side of the 
41 



Letters from a Father to 

polygon? The way one accepts or 
declines a note of invitation, the 
way one uses her voice, the way one 
enters or retires from a room may, 
or may not, be little in itself, but 
the simple act is evidence of condi- 
tions. For is not manner the com- 
parative of man? It is not the su- 
perlative ! 

Others would affirm that the culti- 
vated person is the person who ap- 
preciates the best which life oifers. 
Appreciation is both intellectual, 
emotional, volitional. It is discrim- 
ination plus sympathy. It contains 
a dash of admiration. It recognizes 
and adopts the best in every achieve- 
ment — the arts, literature, poetry, 
42 



His Daughter Entering College 

sculpture, painting, architecture. 
The cultivated person seeks out the 
least unworthy in the unworthy, 
and the most worthy in that which 
is at all worthy. The person of cul- 
tivation knows, compares, relates, 
judges. He has standards, and he 
applies them to things, measures, 
methods. His moral nature is fine, 
as his intellectual is honest. He is 
filled with reverence for truth, duty, 
righteousness. He is humble, for 
he knows how great is truth, how im- 
perative duty. He is modest, for 
he respects others. He is patient 
with others and with himself, for he 
knows how unattainable is the right. 
He can be silent when in doubt. 

43 



Letters from a Father to 

He can speak alone when truth is 
unpopular. He is willing to lose 
his voice in the "choir invisible." 
He is a man of proportion, reality, 
sincerity, honesty, justice, temper- 
ance — intellectual and ethical. 

Such is a cultivation which be- 
longs to all. But there is a special 
cultivation, I think, which belongs 
to woman. Of that unique charac- 
ter and interpreter, Clarence King, 
my old teacher and friend, Henry 
Adams has said : 

''At best. King had but a poor 
opinion of intellect, chiefly because 
he found it so defective an instru- 
ment, but he admitted that it was 
all the male had to live upon ; while 

44 



His Daughter Entering College 



the female was rich in the inherit- 
ance of every animated energy back 
to the polyps and crystals." 

That "animated energy" other 
than intellectual, as well as intel- 
lectual, the college woman is to de- 
velop and to make the most of. It 
is a treasure rich and significant. 
It represents elements which men 
have not, as a rule, received. It 
stands for a personality which has 
the best elements of refinement and 
of charm. Efficiency may accom- 
pany its existence, but efficiency is 
not to be allowed to interfere with 
its development and impressiveness. 

The college girl, be it added, 
should make certain fundamental 
45 



Letters from a Father to 

discriminations. She should dis- 
criminate between self-respect and 
self-consciousness, between emo- 
tional admirations and intellectual 
appreciations, between learning a 
book and learning a subject, be- 
tween trained force and untrained 
power, between respect for others' 
judgment and catering to others' 
prejudices, between social pleasures 
and social re-creations. In her 
personal life, too, she should not 
neglect the distinction between be- 
ing calm and being stolid, between 
trustfulness and indifference, be- 
tween carefulness and fussiness, be- 
tween thoughtfulness and anxiety, 
between piety and pietism, between 

46 



His Daughter Entering College 



a general plan and purpose for life 
and the fortune teller's desire for 
details, between seriousness and 
somberness, between levity and wit, 
between patience and ploddingness. 
These differentiations have im- 
mediate practical value. One can- 
not take all that the college offers. 
Plants draw from the soil not all the 
soil offers but only that which they 
need. Roses take what heliotropes 
may refuse. The college girl should 
select for herself from all the aca- 
demic offerings that which is best for 
herself; the rest is to be discarded. 



47 



Letters from a Father to 

VI 

But, perhaps, the one great com- 
prehensive thing I want to say to 
you, as you do turn your face away 
from your home, is to get the best 
for yourself from the college. That 
may sound very selfish — perhaps it 
is-^but wait a bit. Yet at the peril 
of seeming unusually selfish, let me 
emphasize for yourself. For do you 
know that what in college may be 
best for one girl may not be best 
for another*? It may be well for one 
girl to give special heed to her 
health, through the gymnasium and 
long walks and longer sleeps; for 
another to make most effort to over- 

48 



His Daughter Entering College 



come her self -consciousness ; for an- 
other girl also to do her scholastic 
work with special excellence that 
she may become the most efficient 
teacher. Let each try to find in the 
college the supply of her dire and 
direct wants, and the direness of 
these wants differs. It is also plain 
enough that your education must 
educate you. Does not one deriva- 
tion of the word indicate that this 
thing we call education is a draw- 
ing out, a leading out of one's in- 
born tendencies, a development of 
what the philosophers call the in- 
nate? No gardener tries to raise 
cabbages from cucumber seeds. 
Your father may wish that you had 

49 



Letters from a Father to 

more and better stuff in you, but 
you are what you are, and educa- 
tion must educate that individual 
and that individuality which na- 
ture out of all her material made 
you. Yet, despite all this, girls 
and boys are surprisingly alike, and 
all girls have largely the same needs. 

Get the best for yourself, there- 
fore I repeat. 

In the best for yourself are several 
things that I want out of my experi- 
ence to tell you about. 

VII 

One of these things I shall call 
appreciation. Perhaps I had better 
call what I have in mind a love for 
50 



His Daughter Entering College 



the best, if in this big-little world 
of love I can put in two or three 
things. I want you to know what 
is the best, I want you then to love 
this best, and then I want you to 
make this best a part of yourself. 

In this knowing, loving, incorpo- 
ration I want first to include your 
teachers. Sometimes college pro- 
fessors say that college life would 
be very interesting were there no 
students ; students might return the 
ball by saying college life would 
be all right were there no professors. 
But all college people know that 
each would be "useless without the 
other." Now, you will find your 
teachers in college, like teachers in 
51 



Letters from a Father to 

school everywhere, and like all 
other folks, having a great variety 
of abilities. You are coming to col- 
lege with the idea, possibly, that 
each professor is pretty near perfec- 
tion. Well, keep on thinking so till 
you are obliged to think otherwise; 
but you will soon find that they are 
a bit nearer perfection in certain lat- 
itudes and longitudes than in others. 
What I want you to do is this : take 
each one at his best, and leave him 
as much alone as you can in his not- 
best. When I was a Freshman I 
had two teachers in Latin. With 
them each I read Livy and Horace. 
One of them was a close, accurate, 
painstaking scholar. The chief im- 
52 



His Daughter Entering College 



pression I bore away from him was 
that the Latin language was made 
up largely of a thing called "the sub- 
junctive." Well, it did me good, I 
am sure. It helped to make me 
accurate, I presume. The other 
teacher helped me to feel the 
strength of Livy's well-knit sen- 
tences and to give me a sense of 
style through the well-chosen ep- 
ithets of Horace's verses. Each did 
a bit for me. Each did what the 
other could not do. Take your 
teachers at their best, and try to for- 
get the weak and unworthy parts. 



53 



Letters from a Father to 

VIII 

I also want you to have an appre- 
ciation of the best books. You have 
the advantage of having been 
brought up in a library. Books 
have been so common a part of your 
furniture and of your home that you 
may be in peril of not knowing that 
some books are good, some better, 
and some best. Do you recall Ba- 
con's interpretation ? I want you to 
know, to love, and to make your own 
the best books of all sorts of litera- 
ture. You have read novels, many, 
— keep on reading. But remember 
that Scott is more worthy than 
Cooper, Thackeray than Dickens, 

54 



His Daughter Entering College 



George Eliot than Thomas Hardy. 
You like poetry, like it more, but I 
need not tell you that Wordsworth 
is superior to Longfellow, Brown- 
ing to Whittier, Tennyson to Low- 
ell, Shelley to Emerson. Among 
books the good is often the worst 
enemy of the best. Cultivate the 
best, yet read what you like, but let 
what you like be the highest of its 
kind of to-day, and this will lead 
you to a higher kind to-morrow. 
When I think what a love of the best 
books will mean to you all your life, 
in its companionships, its exalta- 
tions, its struggles and sorrows, I 
feel so glad that the chance of mak- 
ing this love large and real is yours. 

55 



Letters from a Father to 

I should like to say the same to 
you about music. But I feel I can- 
not. The best book is always on 
your table. The best music you 
must go to hear: it is occasional. 
Yet hear all you can rightfully. 
But I do wish you could play the 
violin, or the piano — or something ! 
But pictures? — yes, they may be 
kept before you. It is better to 
have good copies of great pictures 
than original second and third-rate 
pictures, even if you could afford 
them. Have a copy of a Raphael, 
of a Leonardo, of a Correggio, or 
some other master, on the wall of 
your room. 



56 



His Daughter Entering College 



IX 

But I do want you to get the best 
out of your college life. Almost the 
best thing you can do in college or 
out of college is to live your life, 
— live your life truly, deeply, 
bravely, highly, largely. Live your 
life with what I shall call the *'buoy- 
ancy of right living." Certain na- 
tures lift one like a balloon. Cer- 
tain natures depress one like lead 
flung into the water. Vitality, full- 
ness of life, buoyancy, represent 
most precious qualities. These 
qualities are the result of right liv- 
ing. The man whose living is right 
is naturally the man of a buoyant, 

57 



Letters from a Father to 

hopeful, aggressive, progressive 
temperament. Nothing so makes a 
man a "hang-dog" as doing wrong. 
I notice that prisoners in a jail 
usually look down. The gaze of 
the chain-gang is earthward, not 
skyward. Right done makes the 
pulse more full, steady, regular. 
Wrong done makes the pulse thin, 
sharp, nervous. The ministry of 
the virtues of truth, knowledge, and 
love make sleep sounder, appetite 
better, voice cheerier, eye clearer, 
step brisker, one's whole presence 
more vital. 

In this college life, are many, 
many things. I want you to have a 
share in all college affairs. If you 

58 



His Daughter Entering College 



are asked, as I hope and believe you 
will be, to join some college clubs, 
of course accept, but do not belong 
to too many of them. But take a 
part in all college fun, parties, 
theatricals, festivities. Do your 
share, and more, from your time and 
from your purse. College life in 
many ways tends towards selfish- 
ness. The undergraduate activities, 
—pranks, frivolities, and earnest, se- 
rious work, will help to keep you 
large and liberal. 

X 

Another best of the college is your 
atmosphere of friendliness and your 
friendships. The college has ceased 

59 



Letters from a Father to 

to be a nunnery; it has become a 
community. Cultivate the sense of 
good fellowship ! Be able, of course, 
to stand alone. Be able, of course, 
if necessary, to stand opposed to all. 
Be able to speak of the eleven ob- 
stinate and foolish jurors, who 
would not agree with you, the 
twelfth. Said Athanasius, when 
told that the world was against him, 
"I am against the world." But in 
your independence and antagonism, 
always remember to be gracious. 
Agree with others so far as you can. 
Emphasize likenesses, not differ- 
ences. Bring yourself into close 
association with everybody you can. 
In particular know women of train- 
60 



His Daughter Entering College 



ing and conditions unlike your own. 
Be broad in experience as well as in 
observation. Have your sets, your 
societies. Cultivate them. But 
have yourself beyond your set, your 
society. Dr. R. S. Storrs once wrote 
me saying, that among his blessed 
companionships in college was that 
of Father Hewitt, the distinguished 
Roman Catholic prelate. Be sure 
that every friendship lifts. Be sure 
that your friendship lifts every man 
and woman. Be sure that the 
friendship of every man and woman 
lifts you. Life is rich or poor as it 
has friends. The great Darwin 
once wrote to Dr. Hooker that love 
is far more than fame or scholarship. 
61 



Letters from a Father to 

Let me also suggest that friendships 
should be formed not by accident, 
but by choice. It often means too 
much who is the first woman that a 
new student meets on the college 
campus. Let your friends not only 
be choice, let them also be chosen. 
It is more than plain to the reader 
of the biography of Jowett that he 
loved all college men, and it is said 
of him that ''although the genius of 
Swinburne, the ever-active brain of 
J. A. Symonds and the vigorous in- 
dividuality of John Nichol were 
largely independent of his teaching, 
they yet owed to him what was more 
valuable still, the blessing of a 
friendship that never wavered, 
62 



His Daughter Entering College 

which gave unstinted help at critical 
moments both in youth and after 
life, and would make any sacrifice 
of leisure and of ease to serve them." 
The friendships of a boy in college 
mean much, — remember your In 
Memoriam, — but I believe that the 
friendships of college girls may mean 
more. You will make friends for 
life and for all of life's experience. 
Now, there are two things you 
should avoid in making friendships, 
— narrowness and intensity. I know 
some girls who are seclusive; they 
shut themselves up in their friend- 
ships; — they are exclusive: they 
shut other girls out. This is bad. 
Women are in more peril of social 

63 



Letters from a Father ta 

narrowness than men. They ought, 
therefore, to seek to cultivate 
breadth, generosity, and inclusive- 
ness. Have many friends, "and 
more and more and more." Narrow- 
ness leads to a more serious defect, 
namely, too great intensity in 
friendship. Keep your friendships 
sane, healthful, healthy, helpful, 
natural. Let them be growths, like 
rose bushes, not manufactures, like 
artificial flowers. Do not force 
them. I do not care if you take all 
the Freshman year for making 
friends. 

Did I not give counsel, with a bit 
of apology, that you get the best for 
yourself from the college? This 

64 



His Daughter Entering College 



counsel applies to friendship. But 
do you know the way for getting the 
very best friendship for yourself? 
Of course you do. It is to give the 
best of yourself. And do you know 
the surest way of giving the best of 
yourself? Why, of course, — it is to 
find the best in the other girl. That 
other girl has her best and her not- 
best, just like you. Find that best, 
and help her to make that best yet 
better. In offering to make the best 
yet better, you will see, and she will 
see, too, that what is not best is be- 
ing lifted up toward the best itself. 
Is it not unspeakable to think that 
a friendship may deprave or debase? 
How beautiful to find friendships 

65 



Letters from a Father to 

that lift, and enlarge, and inspire 
both. 

But if you are to get the best out 
of the others, they too, are to get 
the best out of you. For others to 
get the best out of you depends upon 
those others, and it also rests with 
you somewhat. With you the re- 
sponsibility is put largely on your 
manners. Good manners are im- 
portant enough for man, but they 
are almost too important for 
woman. In manners for both men 
and women the most important 
words are graciousness, consider- 
ateness. Considerateness is both 
the intellectual and intelligent 
part of thoughtfulness and think- 

66 



His Daughter Entering College 



ing. It also includes the emotional 
part of sympathy. It stands for 
thinking of the other person, her 
rights, her conditions, her needs, her 
achievements, and it also means 
having a feeling for all those rights 
and conditions. Graciousness is a 
still stronger application of consid- 
erateness ; it is doing a favor, show- 
ing a kindness to those who have no 
special claim for such favor or kind- 
ness. 

Good manners are a fine art; the 
fine arts are designed to give pleas- 
ure. There is such a big part of the 
good and the best in you that I am 
eager for other folks beside your 
family to share in it. Your consid- 

67 



Letters from a Father to 

erateness of them, your graciousness 
toward them will enable you to get 
the best. It is largely on your part 
a mood, a mood which you can cul- 
tivate, a point of view, too, which 
you will normally and naturally 
take. 

XI 

But besides the general interpre- 
tation of these special things which 
will help people to get the best from 
you, are one or two other details. 
One is, your voice. The voice 
should give pleasure to one who 
hears it. You need not fear being 
too much unlike your fellow-coun- 
trymen if your voice is sweet and 
68 



His Daughter Entering College 



even. Oh, the Vox 'Americana! 
Take every means which the college 
offers for making your voice pleas- 
ant. 

Another special thing which indi- 
cates considerateness, is a good 
handwriting. I do not know as it 
is a function of a college to teach 
you handwriting. The fact is that 
probably the President of your col- 
lege writes a very bad hand. I 
know that one great cause of your 
and most folks' bad writing is the 
examination paper, and note-taking, 
which must be done quickly. But 
remember there are two undesirable 
things in penmanship; illegibility 
and uncouthness. Some writing 

69 



Letters from a Father to 

may be illegible and still be the 
writing of a lady or gentleman. 
Some writing may be uncouth but 
legible. It is important that your 
writing should be easy to read and 
pleasant to look at. 

All this is very personal, but I am 
going to be still more so. Dress? — 
yes, I am interested in your being 
well dressed. The impression which 
you make on others depends largely 
upon the way you are dressed. 
Dress makes the man and also makes 
the woman. Good dressing need 
not be expensive; good dressing is 
dressing in good taste, and good 
taste is more a matter of judgment 
than of purse. Good dressing is be- 
70 



His Daughter Entering College 



ing so dressed that no one can tell, 
half an hour after meeting you, how 
you were dressed, so complete was 
the fitness of the habit to the inhabi- 
tant. Like the best window glass, 
dress should never call attention to 
itself. 

Now these three things, voice, 
writing and dress are, in part, at 
least, under your own control. Make 
them each such that they shall give 
forth the best of yourself to your 
many friends. You are going to 
college, not to a finishing school. 
The finishing school does look after 
this trinity of graces; the college is 
in peril of not looking after it. It 
is liable to regard such externalities 

71 



Letters from a Father to 

as unworthy of notice. I am in- 
clined to think that the college 
should have regard for such things. 
But, perhaps, the reason the college 
does not take notice is that it be- 
lieves you are so mature, so wise, 
that you are able to look after these 
things yourself. For your educa- 
tion is to make you a thinker, and a 
person who thinks should be able to 
look after such things. I cannot 
better close this part of my letter 
than by giving you what Matthew 
Arnold says in the preface of his 
''Mixed Essays" about the powers 
which contribute to the building up 
of human civilization. They are 
the power of conduct, the power of 
72 



His Daughter Entering College 



social life and manners, the power 
of intellect and knowledge, the 
power of beauty. Here are the con- 
ditions of civilization, the claimants 
which a man must satisfy before he 
can be humanized. 

* XII 

I want to say one thing more. It 
is perhaps the most important, as it 
is the most serious of all I have tried 
to write. Get the best and most out 
of your religion. You are religious, 
I know, not only by formal act, but 
by the instincts of your nature. Re- 
ligion is the greatest thing, — one 
might say, the only thing. The re- 
lation which one bears to the Su- 

73 



Letters from a Father to 

preme Being is the most important. 
It is the background of life, the sky 
of destiny. Now so many people 
do not get much out of their religion, 
and religion certainly does not get 
much out of them. I want you to 
get much and to give much. Inter- 
pret life in the terms of the personal 
creator; sympathize with life in 
terms of righteousness; will life as 
a personal good. 

In this interpretation of life I 
want to suggest to you three things 
as helps. First, prayer. Emerson 
somewhere says that every man 
must pray. The mood of the prayer 
and the act of prayer belong to the 
devout soul. Second, the church. 
74 



His Daughter Entering College 



Keep up your church life. I have 
reason to know how poor and un- 
worthy the church is, how stupid 
much preaching is, but make the 
service of the church worship even 
if you cannot make it instruction or 
inspiration. Third, Sunday. Many 
college boys and girls study Sunday. 
It is very foolish; they think they 
have to. Their belief arises from a 
lack of forethought or prudent plan- 
ning. Use Sunday for a time of in- 
terpretation, reflection, inspiration. 
Make each day, too, like George 
Herbert's Sunday, 'The bridal of 
the earth and sky." 
Good-bye, dear girl. 
With love. 

Your Father. 

75 



Letters From a Father to 

His Son Entering 

College 



By 
CHARLES FRANCIS THWING 

Trcstiknlof 
Walcrn Reserve Unherallti 



PRICE 50 CENTS. NET 



"Letters From a Father to His Son Entering College," is 
a compendium of rules for intellectual growth and achievement. 
All men, whose life even in the smallest degree depends on 
mental efficiency, will profit much by its perusaL 

The letters are written by the hand of a master whose every 
touch is sure. The style is remarkable for clearness, brevity and 
force. There is no needless word. Almost every sentence is an 
epigram which grips the mind with unmistakable sincerity and 
truth. 

There is in them no sense of the pedant of the preacher, 
but rather of one who speaks from the clear, cool heights of wis- 
dom far removed from any taint of self-assertion; yet in them is 
so much all-pervading impersonal sympathy, one feels that the 
writer has understandingly passed over the pathway he points out. 

This book should be in every home, and be made a text 
book in the colleges and universities of the land. 

— Denoa- Times. 



Some Opinions of Prominent 
Educators 



DAVID STARR JORDAN 

President of Leland Stanford funior University 
"I have read 'Letters from a Father to His Son Entering 
College* with great interest. It represents good common sense 
in matters of vital importance to many thousands of boys who 
are going to college this fall." 

ARTHUR T. HADLEY 

President of Yale University 
"I have looked with interest at Dr. Thwing's little book. 
Anything that he writes is worth reading." 

HENRY CHURCHILL KING 

President of Oberlin College 
"I am sure that no prospective college student could fail to 
get much of suggestion and help from President Thwing's^ little 
book, 'Letters from a Father to His Son Entermg College.* " 



BOOKER T. WASHINGTON 

President of Tuskegee Institute 

•'I have read nothing lately which for wholesouled help- 
fulness to young men has impressed me more than Dr. Thwing's 
Letters. I appreciate having them in this beautiful and sub- 
stantial form." 

W. O. THOMPSON 

President of The Ohio State University 
"I have enjoyed going through the book and commend it 
most cordially as a suggestive and helpful little volume for 
students." 

W. E. STONE 

President of Purdue University 

"It is an attractive book, especially to the mature man who 
has had some experience with boys and college problems and 



understands the things concerning which the boys should be fore- 
warned. If any boy would read this carefully he would get a lot 
of good out of it. It is only a question in my mind how much 
attention the average young fellow of these days will give to good 
advice of this sort. It occurs to me as I look through the book, 
that it would be a good book to send to parents of boys about 
to enter college as well as to the boy himself." 



F. W. ATKINSON 

President of The Polytechnic Institute 

"I have read through with interest and profit Dr. Thwing's 
little book. Every high school graduate should have a copy 
placed in his hands. The high school boy who is in doubt 
about going to college would be all the more likely to go to 
college as the result of reading it ; and the boy who has decided 
to take a college course, by reading it, would be put in a more 
thoughtful, earnest fr<.me of mind. 

I have no hesitation in commending the book both for its 
common sense and for its sympathy and knowledge of boy life." 



BENJAMIN IDE WHEELER 

President of Untversity of California 

"I wish every student entering college could read Dr. 
Th wing's little book, 'Letters from a Father to His Son Entering 
College.* " 



A. W. HARRIS 

President of Northwestern University 

"I read Dr. Thwing's * Letters from a Father to His Son 
Entering College* with the greatest interest. They give an ad- 
mirable presentation of important considerations, and lead one 
who has had experience with college men to greatly admire the 
ability, adroitness and persuasiveness with which the President 
has put his plea. The Letters will be valuable in the hands of 
any young man beginning his college education." 



HENRY VAN DYKE 

Prtncetoji Uitiverstty 

"Fortunate the son who has such a father! Happy the 
father whose son follows such wholesome, clean-cut, inspiring 
advice. It must do any boy good to read such a book,** 



JUN 14 1913 



